


i'm aint gon' hurt you child

by fffearless



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, Still not used to writing gay 5sos, let's make out, nerd!ashton, punk!michael, this kind of sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fffearless/pseuds/fffearless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton and Michael make out whilst in detention. That's it, that's the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm aint gon' hurt you child

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi hello basically I had this dream and I thought that I should make it into a fic but not just any fic, a nerd!ashton and punk!michael fic, because those are the best kind of fics. 
> 
> (My planning for this was literally "Write mashton fic based on sexy michael make out dream (you know the one)")
> 
> Title taken from I Want You by The Maine, hope you all like

Ashton's speeding down the hallway, hands clamped to his backpack straps, before halting outside the door he needs. He eyes the door, a little bit scared, and takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to go in there, he's heard bad things about this bad place for bad people who've done bad bad things. 

He shakes himself, reminds himself he'll be late if he doesn't do this now, and turns the handle. 

Once inside, Ashton's eyes widen. The place is horrific. There's kids texting on the back row, some guy asleep and drooling all over his desk, girls painting their nails and some big tough guys throwing paper planes to one another, some accidentally poking the sleeping guy in the head. There's not even a teacher to supervise.

Before anyone can notice him, Ashton rushes to a chair and sits down, head ducked. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and tries to calm his erratic heart.

He doesn't even know how he ended up in detention. (Well, he does, but it wasn't his fault that his car's engine just like, exploded, whilst he was hurtling it's (rather old) metal frame down the road.) He wasn't even that late. 

He's suddenly aware of an unfamiliar presence lurking beside him, and being Ashton, he turns his head, willing whoever (or whatever) to go away.

"Hey," a voice says. It's deep, like the Atlantic.

"Hello," Ashton mumbles, still not looking at the person.

He hears the unmistakable sound of metal legs squawking across linoleum and he panics. He sneaks a glance then, his curiosity of wanting to know who's sitting next to him getting the better of him, and sees Michael motherfucking Clifford. Ashton chokes on his spit. 

Michael's there, watching, leant back, legs on the table with his feet crossed and smirking. Ashton's quite scared because Michael's this big tough scary guy that wears leather and has tattoos curling all the way up both arms and who pierced his own nipples (apparently) and dyes his hair the colours of the rainbow. 

His hair's white now, as he sits inches from Ashton, a starry bandana knotted around his head. His inked arms are on display, his checkered shirt's sleeves having been torn off. (Ashton wonders how, and decides he probably chewed them off.)

Michael still hasn't said anything and he's still watching Ashton so he speaks up.

"What do you want?" He practically squeaks.

If possible, Michael's smirk gets smirkier. "Oh, so you do talk?"

Ashton frowns a little. "Obvi-"

"Sweet," Michael cuts him off. "You know, you're really pretty."

Ashton's jaw snaps shut. What???

Michael chuckles and smirks more, his whole face is practically a smirk and he leans closer, right up to Ashton's face.

Ashton leans away and Michael chuckles. "Oh so you wanna play heard to get? That's fine," he positions himself back in his slouched stance and Ashton sits back where he was. "What're you in for anyway?"

"Late," Ashton says, pulling his jumper's sleeves over his hands.

Michael laughs. "That it?"

Ashton's cheeks go pink and he starts to mumble something incoherent in his defence. Michael watches as he does so, arms folded behind his head. He likes this kid.

"How comes I've never seen you around before?" Michael asks.

Ashton shrugs. "I'm kind of really lame."

Michael barks out a laugh. "Well yeah."

Ashton's mouth forms a perfect 'o' and Michael sniggers.

"Don't worry though kid, it's cute."

"Don't 'kid' me, I'm older than you!" Ashton almost yells, still offended from his previous comment.

"Oh really?" Michael's shit-eating smirk appears again. "Older means more experienced, right?"

Ashton chokes on air and his face burns red, right to the tips of his ears. And that's really cute, Michael thinks, and just to push him a little further he leans forward again, right up close to Ashton's face.

"What are you doing?" Ashton squeaks.

"Testing the theory," Michael mumbles, before reaching forward the tiniest bit and capturing Ashton's lips in his.

Ashton gasps, the little nerd, and tries to back up but Michael's got him, legs trapping his in a vice grip and his hands tight on his elbows. 

He's squirming, especially when Michael pries his lips open (finding bared teeth, gosh he's hard work), but when his tongue flicks against his Ashton practically melts in Michael's arms. 

Michael smirks, knowing his got Ashton coming undone, and keeps going, rubbing his tongue against Ashton's. And somehow he's forgotten about the students in the room with them, their loud chatter blotting into a soft thrum and all he can hear is Ashton and the soft little intakes of breath he's taking as Michael catches his bottom lip in between his pearly teeth. 

And Ashton, well he's enjoying it too. Not that he'd ever admit it because god it's Michael Clifford and oh my god he's totally making out with Michael Clifford and in detention as well. He's gone from nerd to legend in less than ten minutes and if he's honest, he's quite proud of himself.

Michael's panting as he pulls away, resting his slightly clammy forehead against Ashton's. His eyes are closed and Ashton likes the way his eyelashes fan out and rest on his cheeks. 

From somewhere near the back of the room a girl shrieks. "Were Michael and that nerd just making out?!"

Michael's eyes snap open and he grabs a random pen that was laying on the desk and throws it in her general direction. "Fuck off Wendy!"

Wendy 'hmphs' and the rest of the room laughs, but Ashton doesn't hear that as Michael fiddles with the hem of Ashton's jumper and mumbles "theory proven."


End file.
